


Shared Confidences

by JollyRogue



Category: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
Genre: Cuddling, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, M/M, Pillow Talk, bed sharing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:35:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22118008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JollyRogue/pseuds/JollyRogue
Summary: Just a captain and his steward cuddling in bed together and sharing fantasies they've had about each other.
Relationships: Captain Francis Crozier/Thomas Jopson
Comments: 15
Kudos: 38





	Shared Confidences

Francis Crozier’s arm was starting to go numb. This was, of course, only to be expected when the most precious young man was resting right on it, about to doze off into a dream. Thomas Jopson lay nestled next to him, somehow having found a way to fit into the impossibly narrow bunk together with his captain. His naked body exuded so much warmth under the fur blanket that the constant chill of their environment seemed almost a distant memory. Crozier thought he might never want to get up again, out of this bed. 

But then, Jopson’s head was heavy on his arm, a little too much so. Perhaps Crozier could manage a different position without waking him if he went about it very carefully. It would be a shame to disturb that rested, peaceful expression on his steward’s pretty face. Crozier wanted to look at it for as long as possible, painfully realizing that seldom, if ever, had he seen Jopson with closed eyes like this, completely relaxed. The lad deserved every second of rest.

Slowly, inch by inch, Crozier pulled his tingling arm back towards him, taking care to let Jopson’s head slide gently onto the pillow. 

The younger man was not fully asleep, though. He opened his eyes, his gaze found Crozier’s, and he smiled widely as if he’d just discovered one of his captain’s deepest, most closely guarded secrets.

“There’s something, sir,” he began, “I’ve been wondering for some time now, and I’ve just thought about it again.”

“Yeah?” Crozier braced himself despite knowing there was absolutely no need to. For all the time Jopson had been with him, for all the time they’d been intimate now, for all the ways he showed him nothing but love and devotion, Crozier still managed to be terribly uncertain at times whether it was all truly meant to be. How on earth would an ill-tempered old man—and he had not even aged handsomely as dashing Sir James Clark Ross—deserve the affection of one like Thomas Jopson? As hard as he tried to, Crozier found it impossible to silence the persistent little voice of doubt in the back of his mind that kept whispering, _ Jopson will inevitably tire of you, he is sharing your bed out of a sense of duty only and takes no real pleasure in it, he could have anyone so why would he choose you?  _ Alcohol, at times, had helped to silence those devils. But of course it had never helped him to be the partner whom Jopson deserved. 

Even now at this precious moment, cocooned next to each other hot skin to skin, Crozier was invaded by these wretched thoughts. Would they ever stop? He looked at his lover, trying to lose himself in those arresting blue-green eyes that had cast a spell over him from the first moment they’d met. 

“Have you always,—here Jopson’s grin betrayed a rare trace of cheek—“wanted to be with me, sir? Have you thought about fucking me even back then, when we were in the Antarctic?”

The question was not so unexpected. After all, Crozier had discovered a previously unknown side to his otherwise so respectable servant. He’d let him take initiative, heard him talk filthy in ways and words he would never have guessed someone like Jopson knew. What did he, Crozier himself, have to hide? 

“Well, yes.” With a rather embarrassed smile, Crozier averted his gaze without meaning to. “I’ve always wanted you. You did inspire some … twisted fantasies in me, right from the beginning.”

Jopson’s grin widened and an impish twinkle gleamed in his pretty eyes. “That’s amazing. You never gave any indication of it.”

“Why, of course not!” Crozier chuckled.

“Always such an upstanding man.” Jopson let his fingertips trail through Crozier’s chest hair, then circled them downward to his belly. “Even in your foulest of moods, you never forgot basic decency. Even when it would have been so easy…” —this Jopson whispered into Crozier’s ear, low and raspy— “to take advantage.”

“Thomas,” Crozier sighed, knowing he should remind him that such things were serious matters; but Jopson’s voice, his caressing fingers, had the effect of making his spent prick twitch anew. 

“So what have you imagined doing to me?” Jopson whispered. His hand came to rest teasingly close on Crozier’s lower belly, just where a trail of coarse blonde hair widened before merging into a full bush. 

“Well.” Crozier shrugged, feeling helpless in the grasp of charm. “Everything we’ve already done. You know.”

Jopson’s response was a raised eyebrow, showing him that the younger man was not satisfied with this answer. He shook his head, lips pursed. Then his face lit up with another playful smile. “I’ve got an idea, sir!”

“What?”

“Quid quo pro. You tell me yours, and I tell you mine.”

“You mean—”

“Yes. I want to hear it all. All the dirty things you thought about doing to me since I started working for you. And…”—here the devilish twinkle returned to his eyes—“I shall return the favour. I’ll tell you fancies that will make a sailor blush. All the inappropriate thoughts I’ve had about you, that I’ve frigged myself to when alone in my berth.” He lowered his voice, again whispering close to Crozier’s ear. “I’ve imagined some things that you probably haven’t thought of, Francis.”

“If I’d known what a filthy boy you are,” Crozier growled, “I wouldn’t have waited so long.”

“So which is it gonna be?” Jopson tickled his lover’s hair around the belly button. “Will you tell me about you first, or shall I start?” Sensing Crozier’s hesitation, he grinned. “All right then, I’ll go first. But I must warn you, sir. I’ve been really naughty.”

“Go on, you impossible rascal.”

“Fine, sir.” Jopson took a deep breath. “Do you remember — those times when you were so drunk that I actually helped you to pass water? You stood at the seat of ease, and it was clear to me I had to intervene to prevent a mess because you clearly would not be able to aim properly. You could barely stand! But I also did it because I was secretly excited to handle your prick.”

Crozier let out an incredulous laugh, actually surprised. “You helped me  _ piss _ ?!”

Now it was Jopson whose eyebrows went up in bewilderment. “You don’t remember? At all?”

Crozier shook his head, looking at the wall as he racked his memory, but as usual his recollections from phases of drunkenness were hazy at best.

“Well, sir, I was certainly selfish in more ways than one. This was my first opportunity to hold your cock in my hand, and I was going to seize it. And you had no objections. In fact, you took your dear time with the pissing. As if you wanted to draw out the moment as long as possible, half leaning onto me, one arm around my shoulders, while I held your cock, aiming it just right.”

“I really don’t remember,” Crozier mumbled. He hadn’t expected his face to feel hot like that, and instinct told him to offer a late apology for the unsavory things he’d put Jopson through.

“And later, when I was on my own, sir, I would imagine myself holding your prick when you were done, and then just … you’d signify me with one look, with your hand on mine, to stay there. To hold you a little more firmly. And then—to stroke you, slowly at first, up and down, and all the time we’d be looking into each other’s eyes, until you’d finally lean forward and kiss me, drunkenly, messy, impatient.”

“You absolute devil.”

“And— despite the fact that you were drunk as a fiddler, in my fantasy you would get hard, real quick, and from there it was just one step over to the table where you would have me, or a short distance to your bed.”

“Well, in that regard my ideas weren’t so different.” Crozier chuckled, realizing he’d long lost count how often both the cabin table and the berth had seen their congress. A good thing, indeed, that furniture could not speak!

“Care to tell me about one?” There was it again, that irresistible, beautiful grin.

“Well. This is probably not going to shock you, but I imagined quite a few times—when you knelt in front of me, to clean my boots or to help me take them off—I wondered what it might be like if you decided to be bold and let your hand linger on my thigh. Sliding it up; and letting me know, more with a silent look from your pretty eyes than with words, that you would gladly and willingly attend to … other matters.”

“Like cutting your nails?”

Oh, that handsome bastard. “No, you silly boy!” Crozier pulled a face in mock indignation. “Ironing my drawers, of course!”

That prompted the response he’d hoped for; a hearty laugh which crinkled the corners of Jopson’s eyes. God, it was unfathomable; how was this man so captivating? Every time he laughed like this, or smiled happily—so much more frequently ever since their quasi-marriage began—seemed to Crozier like a precious gift that he sometimes was not sure he deserved.

“You know, I often felt bad about having these thoughts.” Crozier let his gaze trail into the distance. “You always seemed to me … well, deserving better.”

“I assure you, Francis, I’ve been thinking the same things.”

“But I didn’t know that! Damn it, Thomas—a sweet, polite lad like you, so prim and proper always, nary a fault in your manners nor a single speck of dust on your boots! Of course I felt like I was tarnishing you with my thoughts.”

“Meanwhile I was condemned to lie in my tiny berth all alone, curtain drawn, yanking myself to the fancy of kneeling between your thighs and sucking your thick, hard cock until you decided to spend generously all over my face.”

“God, Thomas, I especially didn’t fancy you … acting so  _ submissive _ , of all things.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing, it’s just … You’re always in control. When I was cooped up in my cabin, sick with withdrawal last winter? Lieutenant Little said you projected more authority than all of the officers combined, and yet no one noticed that they were effectively following your orders rather than the officer’s or vice versa. You were the goddamned captain that I should have been, Thomas, and no one even questioned—” He held out his palms,  _ you know? _

Jopson cast his gaze down with a bashful laugh. His hand slid back up toward Crozier’s chest, resting right above his heart. “You’re giving me too much credit, Captain.”

“Call me silly, dear boy, but I’ve felt—rather more often than I care to admit—that I must not disappoint you. That I must be a better man, a better captain. For you.”

“Francis, really, now—”

“You inspire me to be better.”

Jopson smiled, and they shared a silent moment of gazing into each other’s eyes Then Crozier noticed his demeanour turn more serious.

“I hope…” Jopson looked down, “that you won’t think less of me.”

“Why on earth would I?” Perplexed, Crozier enclosed his lover’s hand firmly into his.

“When I’m being like that—when I want you to hold my wrists down, or grab my hair, or slap my bottom—that’s precisely  _ because _ I’m otherwise always in control, you see?”

“M-hm.” Crozier nodded. He had been wondering at Jopson’s frequent desire to be passive and to be manhandled, but never questioned it, always happy to give him what he wanted. Was there more to it?

“With you, I can relax and simply have a moment of  _ not _ being in control, and it feels real good because I trust you. When you treat me roughly just like I want it … I have no responsibility in that moment, no duty … I surrender fully to you, let you have all the power, and it’s so freeing. Does that make sense, Francis?”

Crozier nodded again, more slowly this time, as understanding dawned upon him. “Yes. Yes, it does.”

He noticed that Jopson’s face was flushed a little, his smile the slightest bit ill at ease; and he rushed to reassure him. “Thomas, you needn’t worry, I’m happy to give you all you want; and when I’m myself getting so much pleasure out of hitting you on that pretty arse, or calling you a dirty whore, how could I possibly judge you for anything? In fact …”, he glanced down, recalling particular thoughts he’d sometimes felt guilty about, “I’m no less depraved, believe me. Almost from the day we met I’ve been imagining … do you want to hear it?”

Jopson’s face lit up, his dimpled smile beaming. “Yes!”

“Remember what I told you earlier, how the first thing I noticed about you was how goddamn prim and proper you are? And how it sometimes made me feel a little inadequate—that you were setting an example for me?”

Jopson nodded. “You said that.”

“So, sometimes, it felt good just to imagine … how I would make you forget all that bloody decorum? I wanted to  _ destroy _ you, Thomas. In the best of ways. Rip open all your buttons. Tousle up your tidy hair. Wrestle you, tie your hands with your cravat. I’d make a right good mess of you, shamelessly kissing and groping you until you were helplessly excited and completely undone … and you’d beg for my touch, for my mouth on you, for my prick in you. All manners and propriety forgotten!”

Jopson stared at him, and breathed out the softest little moan. “Go on.”

Crozier grinned, pleased at the effect his words had on his lover. “It was a powerful feeling, in that fancy of mine, to make you lose yourself so completely. Such a polite and decent young man, uptight even, but once you were in my arms, and overcome with passion because of  _ me _ , and I …” He trailed off as the vivid images turned clear in his mind, causing a delicious tightening sensation in his abdomen; and to his amazement, he felt a new surge pulsing through his cock. Locking eyes with Jopson, he noted the deepened blush on his steward’s cheeks. Crozier lifted the blanket to look at himself: indeed, his cock lay against his belly more heavily, semi-hard. They’d made love barely an hour ago, and such a quick recovery time was unusual for him. He propped himself up on his elbow for a better look, also at Jopson under the same blanket, and smiled when he found him even more excited.

“Francis? … Go on.” Jopson sounded impatient.

Replacing the blanket for warmth, Crozier shuffled close to the other man so that he could feel his hardness pressing against him, warm and insistent. “What more is there? Do you need me to tell you … or  _ show  _ you?”

Jopson bit his lower lip, grinning at his captain. His gaze said everything. He pulled Crozier into a close embrace and let him throw him on his back, legs hooking around Crozier’s waist.

_ the end _


End file.
